Amped - Part 10
Nov. 10th, 2011 11:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwyllionTitle: Amped
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: Modern au
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 57,554
A/N: This was written for NaNoWriMo 2011. For additional notes, warnings, etc, please refer to Part 1 here.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
Arthur arrived home exhausted. Neither the Vectra, nor Morgana’s Prius were in the garage. If they had been, he may have simply driven past the house and found a more peaceful place to spend the evening.
The rain had let up, but the clearing skies brought with them a cool breeze that shook the droplets from the newly-budded leaves. The thought of Merlin walking home whilst wrapped in Arthur’s flannel shirt brought a smile to Arthur’s face. He hoped Merlin’s boyfriend wouldn’t give him too much grief about it.
Arthur wiped his feet on the mat and tossed his gear bag into the foyer closet.
He ran water from the tap into a mug and set it in the microwave to boil. Without bothering to shut the door to the loo, he took a piss and returned to the microwave’s beeping.
He spooned a couple scoops of hot chocolate mix into the cup and stirred it until the liquid turned a lovely milky brown. Kicking off his trainers, he picked up his mail from the kitchen counter and carried his cocoa to the den. He lay back on the plush sectional, and thumbed through the correspondence whilst sipping the chocolatey drink.
When he was satisfied that he had perused enough credit card offers and educational opportunities, interspersed with Police Academy paraphernalia that his father had undoubtedly snuck into his stack, he set his cocoa onto the nearby coffee table and closed his eyes.
Before long, he was sound asleep.
“Arthur?” the voice sang.
Arthur shifted his legs and sunk deeper into the plush.
“Arthur, wake up,” the voice softly called.
Arthur was vaguely aware of a warm hand rubbing smooth circles across his chest. The sectional, where he was accustomed to napping occasionally, had somehow grown more pillows... many more pillows.
“Arthur?”
Arthur barely cracked his eyes open and tugged a pillow across the back of his head, pulling it against his ears to block out the sound, not wanting to disturb his dream of Merlin.
They were on a quest, just the two of them, and Merlin had somehow wandered through a meadow of flowers that bloomed with sex pollen. This miraculous occurrence happened but only once each year and Arthur was keen on taking his opportunity with it.
“Arthur?”
Merlin crawled onto the regally-appointed bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.
“Merlin?” Arthur questioned.
“You were expecting someone else?” Merlin asked, firmly pulling the pillow out of Arthur’s hands.
“Come on,” Arthur said, circling Merlin’s narrow wrist with a sword-calloused hand. “Come back to bed.”
Arthur did his best to add a whine to his voice, knowing that Merlin couldn’t resist. He watched him think, admiring the way the sunlight made his naked skin shimmer against the crimson bed curtains. Arthur pushed his bottom lip out ever so slightly, in a movement that he was certain was not befitting of a king.
“Please,” Arthur whispered. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Oh, you,” said Merlin, feigning exasperation, his cheeks flushed pink. He relented, and slid beneath the sheets again, his chilled body pressing against Arthur’s bed-warm skin. “How could I ever deny you?”
Arthur sighed happily as their legs tangled together.
“But you’ve got a full day of duties to attend to,” Merlin laughed, his breath in Arthur’s ear. “So we’d better make it fast.”
Arthur awoke to the sound of the garage door.
He stumbled to his feet before he even realized his hand was shoved down his pants. Closing the loo door behind him before he found out whether it was Morgana or his father who had arrived home, he brought himself off wondering why the dreamed Merlin was so confident, while his Merlin was a ball of raw nerves.
***
Merlin slouched into his seat as the train left the station. It was only a few stops to the flat, so he needed to maximize his time if he were to re-live the events of the afternoon. The panic he felt when he thought Mordred might have contacted Arthur gave way to the utter joy of Arthur’s hands on his head, towelling his hair, Arthur gripping his arm, Arthur liking his ideas for the lighting and staging. Arthur wanting to discuss these things with Merlin!
The punch in the arm, he could have done without. Merlin rubbed the spot where Arthur’s fist had struck. Somewhere in his head he calculated how much therapy he’d need to set him right again, if he ever was to have a happy ending.
But none of that mattered now, not when he had the best thing of all, a piece of Arthur himself… almost.
He pulled the flannel shirt tight around him, his hands brushing over the soft fabric. He popped the collar and inhaled. This is what it smelled like, to have someone who cared.
When he exited the train at his stop, he gathered his satchel of electrical notes and stepped onto the sidewalk. The sun had finally burst through the clouds and the puddles on the ground were drying in the afternoon breeze. With a tune in his head, he strode the few blocks to his flat, a plan germinating about how best to deal with his recently acquired garment.
He’d have to sneak the shirt into the laundry. He couldn’t very well return it unlaundered, not after Arthur’s generosity. As much as he’d like to hide it away and keep it forever for himself, what kind of sick bastard would do such a thing? No, he’d wait until Mordred wasn’t paying attention and then he’d slip it into the washing and take care of it himself.
Merlin took the steps two by two, barely winded when he reached the fourth floor.
His mouth fell open when he entered the flat and found Mordred sitting in front of the fireplace.
“Hello, Merlin,” Mordred said without rising.
Merlin never dreamed that Mordred would have come home early from the office.
“Oh, hello, I didn’t think you’d be home,” Merlin said, slipping his satchel from his shoulder. “I’d have started dinner already.”
“Where have you been?” Mordred asked, glancing his way.
“Nowhere, really,” said Merlin, struggling for an answer. “Just out for a walk.”
“You’re hiding something from me?” Mordred asked.
“No,” Merlin choked. “Not at all. Why would you think that?”
Mordred rose and walked the few steps to the kitchen where Merlin stood.
“You didn’t want me to see this,” said Mordred, sliding his fingers down the front of the flannel shirt.
Merlin bit his bottom lip and took a step backward, the counter pressing into the small of his back.
“You’re a fucking whore, Merlin,” Mordred said. “It’s written right across your face.”
Merlin swallowed hard, wishing Mordred would disappear.
“You’re not worth it, Merlin. Not worth my time. Or anyone else’s.”
Merlin lowered his eyes to the floor.
He didn’t move until he heard the door slam and Mordred’s footsteps descending the stairs.
He sank into a kitchen chair and pulled the shirt off, dropping it on the dirty linoleum.
He almost didn’t answer his mobile when it buzzed with an incoming call.
“Arthur?” he tried to sound natural, although his demeanour was blown to shit.
“Hey, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Are you doing alright?”
“Yeah, fine mate,” Merlin lied.
“You just sound odd, must be the connection,” Arthur said. “Anyway, I just learned that we’ll be able to rehearse at the Avalon Theatre on Wednesday. I’m calling everyone to let them know, so we’ll meet there instead of the warehouse. You’ll be able to make it?”
“Of course,” Merlin said. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Alright then,” Arthur said. “I’ll see you there.”
***
Arthur had to remove his aviators to fully appreciate the cavernous interior of the Avalon Theatre. Although he had been to countless shows at the venue, this was his first visit in anticipation of headlining a show in the massive auditorium. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he took in the atmosphere.
Onstage, Percival and Leon looked to nearly be done setting up the drum kit. Gwaine chatted on his mobile from the front row. Elyan sat behind him and tried to braid his hair into cornrows while Gwaine did his best to ignore his efforts.
A closer look at the theatre’s dark interior revealed that Lance and Gwen were snogging in the balcony. Overhead, the sounds of instructions being barked out resonated over the empty seats.
If he listened closely, Arthur recognised one of the voices as belonging to Merlin.
“Hello, up there,” he called into the rafters above the audience.
“How’s it going, Arthur?” Merlin replied.
A woman’s voice interjected, “You need to have the red ones on the edges. How many times do I have to say it?”
“Go easy on him, darling. You don’t want to wear him out before he finishes.”
Arthur would know Cenred’s voice anywhere.
The shaggy-haired frontman of the duo sat in the back row with his head tilted toward the ceiling. Arthur looked up, but couldn’t see a thing. Perhaps he would when his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
“I’m not going to let him screw it up for us, dear. Show a little faith,” the woman retorted.
Morgause.
What the hell were they doing here?
“I think it’s all set now,” Merlin shouted.
“It had better be,” Morgause said.
Arthur could hear them, but it was difficult to make out their figures in the catwalk above.
Eventually, they must have gotten things sorted because Morgause emerged from the darkness, her skin-tight dress leaving little to the imagination.
Merlin trotted down the aisle after her.
Arthur rolled his eyes. It was bad enough that The Black Zigzags were opening for The Knights, did they have to be here on the same day to set up their lighting?
“Why are you helping them?” Arthur asked Merlin, low enough that Morgause couldn’t overhear.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Merlin nodded. “But it’s better if I help them a bit now. It’ll keep them out of our hair when we’re setting our lighting and it’ll give them fewer opportunities to mess our lights up.”
Arthur reluctantly agreed.
“Just remember, they’re not paying you. You don’t have to listen to them,” Arthur said.
“Oh, they’re no bother,” Merlin waved toward the couple. “I’ve worked with worse.”
Arthur smiled. “Let’s go see what the rest of The Knights are doing.”
He and Merlin headed for the stage.
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: Modern au
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 57,554
A/N: This was written for NaNoWriMo 2011. For additional notes, warnings, etc, please refer to Part 1 here.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
Arthur arrived home exhausted. Neither the Vectra, nor Morgana’s Prius were in the garage. If they had been, he may have simply driven past the house and found a more peaceful place to spend the evening.
The rain had let up, but the clearing skies brought with them a cool breeze that shook the droplets from the newly-budded leaves. The thought of Merlin walking home whilst wrapped in Arthur’s flannel shirt brought a smile to Arthur’s face. He hoped Merlin’s boyfriend wouldn’t give him too much grief about it.
Arthur wiped his feet on the mat and tossed his gear bag into the foyer closet.
He ran water from the tap into a mug and set it in the microwave to boil. Without bothering to shut the door to the loo, he took a piss and returned to the microwave’s beeping.
He spooned a couple scoops of hot chocolate mix into the cup and stirred it until the liquid turned a lovely milky brown. Kicking off his trainers, he picked up his mail from the kitchen counter and carried his cocoa to the den. He lay back on the plush sectional, and thumbed through the correspondence whilst sipping the chocolatey drink.
When he was satisfied that he had perused enough credit card offers and educational opportunities, interspersed with Police Academy paraphernalia that his father had undoubtedly snuck into his stack, he set his cocoa onto the nearby coffee table and closed his eyes.
Before long, he was sound asleep.
“Arthur?” the voice sang.
Arthur shifted his legs and sunk deeper into the plush.
“Arthur, wake up,” the voice softly called.
Arthur was vaguely aware of a warm hand rubbing smooth circles across his chest. The sectional, where he was accustomed to napping occasionally, had somehow grown more pillows... many more pillows.
“Arthur?”
Arthur barely cracked his eyes open and tugged a pillow across the back of his head, pulling it against his ears to block out the sound, not wanting to disturb his dream of Merlin.
They were on a quest, just the two of them, and Merlin had somehow wandered through a meadow of flowers that bloomed with sex pollen. This miraculous occurrence happened but only once each year and Arthur was keen on taking his opportunity with it.
“Arthur?”
Merlin crawled onto the regally-appointed bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.
“Merlin?” Arthur questioned.
“You were expecting someone else?” Merlin asked, firmly pulling the pillow out of Arthur’s hands.
“Come on,” Arthur said, circling Merlin’s narrow wrist with a sword-calloused hand. “Come back to bed.”
Arthur did his best to add a whine to his voice, knowing that Merlin couldn’t resist. He watched him think, admiring the way the sunlight made his naked skin shimmer against the crimson bed curtains. Arthur pushed his bottom lip out ever so slightly, in a movement that he was certain was not befitting of a king.
“Please,” Arthur whispered. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Oh, you,” said Merlin, feigning exasperation, his cheeks flushed pink. He relented, and slid beneath the sheets again, his chilled body pressing against Arthur’s bed-warm skin. “How could I ever deny you?”
Arthur sighed happily as their legs tangled together.
“But you’ve got a full day of duties to attend to,” Merlin laughed, his breath in Arthur’s ear. “So we’d better make it fast.”
Arthur awoke to the sound of the garage door.
He stumbled to his feet before he even realized his hand was shoved down his pants. Closing the loo door behind him before he found out whether it was Morgana or his father who had arrived home, he brought himself off wondering why the dreamed Merlin was so confident, while his Merlin was a ball of raw nerves.
***
Merlin slouched into his seat as the train left the station. It was only a few stops to the flat, so he needed to maximize his time if he were to re-live the events of the afternoon. The panic he felt when he thought Mordred might have contacted Arthur gave way to the utter joy of Arthur’s hands on his head, towelling his hair, Arthur gripping his arm, Arthur liking his ideas for the lighting and staging. Arthur wanting to discuss these things with Merlin!
The punch in the arm, he could have done without. Merlin rubbed the spot where Arthur’s fist had struck. Somewhere in his head he calculated how much therapy he’d need to set him right again, if he ever was to have a happy ending.
But none of that mattered now, not when he had the best thing of all, a piece of Arthur himself… almost.
He pulled the flannel shirt tight around him, his hands brushing over the soft fabric. He popped the collar and inhaled. This is what it smelled like, to have someone who cared.
When he exited the train at his stop, he gathered his satchel of electrical notes and stepped onto the sidewalk. The sun had finally burst through the clouds and the puddles on the ground were drying in the afternoon breeze. With a tune in his head, he strode the few blocks to his flat, a plan germinating about how best to deal with his recently acquired garment.
He’d have to sneak the shirt into the laundry. He couldn’t very well return it unlaundered, not after Arthur’s generosity. As much as he’d like to hide it away and keep it forever for himself, what kind of sick bastard would do such a thing? No, he’d wait until Mordred wasn’t paying attention and then he’d slip it into the washing and take care of it himself.
Merlin took the steps two by two, barely winded when he reached the fourth floor.
His mouth fell open when he entered the flat and found Mordred sitting in front of the fireplace.
“Hello, Merlin,” Mordred said without rising.
Merlin never dreamed that Mordred would have come home early from the office.
“Oh, hello, I didn’t think you’d be home,” Merlin said, slipping his satchel from his shoulder. “I’d have started dinner already.”
“Where have you been?” Mordred asked, glancing his way.
“Nowhere, really,” said Merlin, struggling for an answer. “Just out for a walk.”
“You’re hiding something from me?” Mordred asked.
“No,” Merlin choked. “Not at all. Why would you think that?”
Mordred rose and walked the few steps to the kitchen where Merlin stood.
“You didn’t want me to see this,” said Mordred, sliding his fingers down the front of the flannel shirt.
Merlin bit his bottom lip and took a step backward, the counter pressing into the small of his back.
“You’re a fucking whore, Merlin,” Mordred said. “It’s written right across your face.”
Merlin swallowed hard, wishing Mordred would disappear.
“You’re not worth it, Merlin. Not worth my time. Or anyone else’s.”
Merlin lowered his eyes to the floor.
He didn’t move until he heard the door slam and Mordred’s footsteps descending the stairs.
He sank into a kitchen chair and pulled the shirt off, dropping it on the dirty linoleum.
He almost didn’t answer his mobile when it buzzed with an incoming call.
“Arthur?” he tried to sound natural, although his demeanour was blown to shit.
“Hey, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Are you doing alright?”
“Yeah, fine mate,” Merlin lied.
“You just sound odd, must be the connection,” Arthur said. “Anyway, I just learned that we’ll be able to rehearse at the Avalon Theatre on Wednesday. I’m calling everyone to let them know, so we’ll meet there instead of the warehouse. You’ll be able to make it?”
“Of course,” Merlin said. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Alright then,” Arthur said. “I’ll see you there.”
***
Arthur had to remove his aviators to fully appreciate the cavernous interior of the Avalon Theatre. Although he had been to countless shows at the venue, this was his first visit in anticipation of headlining a show in the massive auditorium. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he took in the atmosphere.
Onstage, Percival and Leon looked to nearly be done setting up the drum kit. Gwaine chatted on his mobile from the front row. Elyan sat behind him and tried to braid his hair into cornrows while Gwaine did his best to ignore his efforts.
A closer look at the theatre’s dark interior revealed that Lance and Gwen were snogging in the balcony. Overhead, the sounds of instructions being barked out resonated over the empty seats.
If he listened closely, Arthur recognised one of the voices as belonging to Merlin.
“Hello, up there,” he called into the rafters above the audience.
“How’s it going, Arthur?” Merlin replied.
A woman’s voice interjected, “You need to have the red ones on the edges. How many times do I have to say it?”
“Go easy on him, darling. You don’t want to wear him out before he finishes.”
Arthur would know Cenred’s voice anywhere.
The shaggy-haired frontman of the duo sat in the back row with his head tilted toward the ceiling. Arthur looked up, but couldn’t see a thing. Perhaps he would when his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
“I’m not going to let him screw it up for us, dear. Show a little faith,” the woman retorted.
Morgause.
What the hell were they doing here?
“I think it’s all set now,” Merlin shouted.
“It had better be,” Morgause said.
Arthur could hear them, but it was difficult to make out their figures in the catwalk above.
Eventually, they must have gotten things sorted because Morgause emerged from the darkness, her skin-tight dress leaving little to the imagination.
Merlin trotted down the aisle after her.
Arthur rolled his eyes. It was bad enough that The Black Zigzags were opening for The Knights, did they have to be here on the same day to set up their lighting?
“Why are you helping them?” Arthur asked Merlin, low enough that Morgause couldn’t overhear.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Merlin nodded. “But it’s better if I help them a bit now. It’ll keep them out of our hair when we’re setting our lighting and it’ll give them fewer opportunities to mess our lights up.”
Arthur reluctantly agreed.
“Just remember, they’re not paying you. You don’t have to listen to them,” Arthur said.
“Oh, they’re no bother,” Merlin waved toward the couple. “I’ve worked with worse.”
Arthur smiled. “Let’s go see what the rest of The Knights are doing.”
He and Merlin headed for the stage.
